


Teenage Dirtbag

by grimzie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Flower Child Harry, Gen, High School, but oh well, harry is more of a grungy punk rocker not really flower child, tagging it anyway, teenage dirtbag, wheatus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimzie/pseuds/grimzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's grungy and Noel is perfect and this story is pretty cliche, but don't blame me, blame Wheatus. They wrote the song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teenage Dirtbag

I looked in the mirror and frowned at what I saw. I hadn't showered in a couple of days and my hair was a mess. Flat in some places, curly in others. I scratched my head and tried to place the unruly brunette locks in a way that would look halfway decent. After about a minute, I gave up.

"Fuck it," I said aloud and went on a search through my room for a semi-clean shirt. 

There were clothes everywhere. Name a piece of furniture in my room and there was probably a piece of my laundry on it. Where there weren't any dirty pants, there were dirty dishes. Plates, cups, half eaten slices of pizza.  
I picked up a black Metallica t-shirt from the clock next to my bed and sniffed it. Clean enough. Meanwhile, the clock read 7:58, meaning I had 17 minutes to get my shit together and get to the hellpit they call high school.  
I finished getting dressed and threw a beanie on the mop atop my head. Thank god it was Friday.

My worn out Converse high tops scuffed along the freshly rained on sidewalk as I dragged my feet tiredly. My headphones blasted one of my favourite songs from my favourite band, Iron Maiden. Before I knew what had happened, a giant wave of dirty rain water was being splashed over me. I looked up through wet lashes to see the criminal who was no other than Tyler Klein, captain of the football team. Him and his jock buddies slowed down in his jet black convertible to point and laugh at me.

"Real funny, you fucking assholes!" I yelled, holding up my middle finger to them as they drove away. 

I ripped my beanie off and pushed the damp curls off of my forehead. I was drenched from head to toe, small droplets of water dripped from the ends of my hair. I probably looked like a drowned rat.  
The next 10 minutes were spent running to school and trying not to get chaffed from my wet jeans. It was somewhat successful.

**********

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

I stood in the middle of the dean's office. It was quiet and stuffy, the only sounds came from the giant clock on the wall and water dripping from my clothes and onto the clinically white tile. The woman behind the desk looked at me over her glasses in disgust.

"Do you need a tardy slip?" She asked.

"Yup," I responded, wringing out my hat in front of me.

She sneered at me and pulled a pink pad from her desk drawer, not bothering to ask my name or whose class I was late for. She ripped off a sheet and handed it to me forcefully. I snatched it out of her wrinkled hand and left with a slam of the door.

**********

There's nothing worse than walking into a high school classroom, late. Everyone turns to stare at you as if they've never seen your face before. As if you're the most interesting thing they've ever laid their eyes on and their lives depended on the next move you make.

"Take a fucking picture," I muttered under my breath as I took my seat in the very back corner. 

My beanie landed with a splat on my desk as I took off my shoes and poured the water in them out onto the floor next to me. No one was paying attention to me anymore, as usual, so I took to trying to dry myself off. My hair had become frizzy and gross, so I wrung the hat out some more and placed it back on its original spot on my head.  
My eyes scanned the room, landing on the desk 3 rows diagonally from mine. There she was. Noel Willner. The most popular girl in school. Blonde hair down the middle of her back, tanned skin, and gorgeous green eyes. We'd gone to the same school since elementary but she had never given me a second look. She probably didn't even know my name. Couldn't say I blamed her though. She was perfect and I was Harry Styles: Loser Extraordinaire.

I had almost all the same classes as she did, but I had the best view of her in English. Most days I just sat and stared at her, imagining all the things I would do to her, if she'd let me. How I'd make her purr like a kitten. How she'd beg me for more as I teased her with my hands, my tongue.  
She was wearing a particularly short skirt that showed the side of her bare thigh all the way up to her bum. The bottom of her shirt had risen the slightest, showing the tanned skin of her waist. I bit my bottom lip as I tried not to get too excited.  
I looked at the clock above the blackboard. There was a half hour left until my next class. I slipped out, unnoticed, so I could get to my locker before the hall filled with idiots.

I turned the silver lock until it clicked, allowing me entrance to what was arguably the messiest locker in existence. Notebooks and pencils, hoodies and shirts, all crammed inside one little metal compartment. Being messy had finally paid off, as I needed some dry clothes. I picked some out and went into the bathroom to change.

My shirt had holes in it from being worn so many times. The rubbery red letters that spelled out Iron Maiden were cracked and faded. I didn't have another pair of shoes, so I was going to have to tough it out with wet ones all day. That was going to be fun.  
(Outfit: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=65668009)

8:52 am. I had 8 minutes until the bell rang, which was plenty of time to smoke the joint that I had stashed in my backpack. I went into the handicapped stall and stood on the back of the toilet to open the small window. I lit up and took a long drag right before someone came in.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, putting out the cigarette and desperately fanning the smoke out of the window.

"Did you see that dweeb that I splashed this morning?" I heard Tyler boast as he walked in. 

Someone else laughed. "Yeah, Harry's a fucking loser."

"Harry? What a stupid name."

I rolled my eyes while I tried to keep as quiet as I could, listening to the two douchebags take a piss and laugh at my expense. Gazing at the clear blue lighter in my hand, I thought about burning this whole place to the ground. It was a thought I obviously wasn't going to act upon because I was too chicken shit.  
The urinals flushed and zippers zipped. The thud of their footsteps quieted as they walked further away from my stall towards the door. I thought I was safe, but they stopped short.

"Dude, do you smell weed?" The other guy, whose voice I recognised to be Zayn Malik, asked. Tyler sniffed the air audibly.

"Yeah, actually," he said as he kicked in the first stall door.

 _Shit, shit, shit._ I shoved my lighter and pot back in my pocket when I heard the second door give way. One more and it'd be my turn. I hopped down quietly from the tank and weighed my options. The window was too small to fit through, so that only left making a run for it, and let's face it, I'm a stoner who sits on his ass all day and they're star athletes who I had no chance of outrunning.

"We know you're in here, Styyyles," Zayn taunted.

I had no choice. I opened the door and they rushed me, pinning me against the grimy tile wall. I coughed in their faces, the musky cologne from their letterman jackets clogging up my lungs.

"You pricks know you don't have to bathe in that shit, right?"

"Shut the fuck up, reject," Zayn yelled, pinning my arms to my sides as Tyler searched my pockets.

"Bingo," he rejoiced, yanking the joint and lighter out from my pants.

I struggled against Zayn's firm grip, my attempts to get away in vain.

"You assholes just wanted an excuse to touch my dick," I spat.

Tyler lunged at me and Zayn let go of my arms, intersecting the punch that was flying towards my face. He grabbed Tyler's fist and pushed him away. Tyler glared at me, probably plotting my murder for the comment I made.

"Dude, we got the weed let's just get out of here," he said calmly.

"Whatever." Tyler shook out of his grasp and stalked out of the bathroom.

I smoothed out my shirt and looked over at Zayn, who for some reason hadn't left. I hoped he wasn't waiting for me to thank him or something, because that wasn't happening. I rammed my shoulder into his as I walked out.

"Hey dirtbag," he called to me. I turned around, the familiar term angering me. It was a nickname given to me by Zayn and his no-brain friends who had spraypainted it on my locker freshman year. "See you in gym."

********

"I just don't understand why someone like her, settles for someone like that shitface, Tyler," I grumbled while I changed into my bright blue gym shirt and shorts. Louis hummed in agreement from the bench next to me. "She's popular, he's popular. That's the only reason," I continued. He nodded, tying his pristinely white tennis shoes.

"We can't all break the status quo and get along like you and I, Harry," he stated.

He was right. Louis was one of the smartest people in the whole school. Hell, he was one of the smartest people in the state, most likely. He volunteered on weekends, got along with his parents, never did anything illegal or immoral. He was attractive and his clothes were always clean, his locker always organised, his papers always written on time. He had a gorgeous girlfriend who was just as smart as he was, if not smarter. We were polar opposites, but we were best friends. Louis was actually my only friend.

"All right, you're all dressed, now get out," the coach yelled, ushering everyone out of the room.

I passed by a mirror that hung on the wall and inconspicuously rearranged the curls that stuck out from my beanie. Louis walked by and clapped me on the shoulder.

"You look fine, mate," he smiled encouragingly. "She doesn't know what she's missing."

Coach told us to run laps, which I took to mean "walk at a steady pace while I watched everyone make a fool out of themselves." Coach used to yell at me, but once he realised I wasn't going to comply, he gave up.  
Every time Zayn lapped me, he knocked me in the back of the head which I was getting fucking sick of, but it was worth it if it meant I got to watch Noel jog around in her short shorts and tall socks, her cute little ass wiggling with every stride she took to pass me.  
After about 15 minutes we were told to stop and gather in the middle of the gym. Noel stood next to me, her sweet perfume wafted around the air, filling my nose with the smell of vanilla. I breathed in deeply, savouring the closeness. She was almost as tall as I was, maybe shorter by an inch or two. I looked over at her but she ignored me, almost as if I was invisible.

"Hi," I blurted out without thinking.

She turned to me, her piercing emerald eyes looking me up and down, before she walked away without a word. I sighed and turned my attention to the front of the gym where coach was standing next to a bunch of buckets and an open crate.

"Listen up. Prom is tomorrow, as I'm sure you all know. Which means the decorating committee is going to be here next period to start decorating. I need all of you to clean the floor. You've got 45 minutes," he blew his stupid whistle for no reason at all and everyone scattered over to the crate full of big yellow sponges.

I slummed over to Louis, grabbing a sponge and dunking it in a red bucket full of soapy water.

"What I wouldn't give to have five minutes alone with that girl," I said, looking over at Noel.

Louis looked over at me from his position on the hardwood floor, wide-eyed. "Harry, don't be stupid."

I sat next to him and started lazily moving the sponge around, doubtfully doing any cleaning at all. "Just fucking look at her, Lou." I grunted in appreciation as I watched her bend over, getting a good view down her shirt.

"Do you not remember that Tyler keeps a gun in his car?" He sternly whispered in my ear through gritted teeth. I chuckled. "It's not funny. He'd kick your ass, or worse, if he knew you thought things like that about Noel."

I ruffled Louis' perfectly quaffed hair. "I'm pretty sure every guy in school thinks things like that about her."

He shook his head and kept washing, not bothering to fix his hair. "Just keep it in your pants, Haz."

**********

My shoes finally dried, but it rained while I was walking home. What a shitty day. Mum had dinner on the table when I got there, but I skipped, wanting to take a shower and fuck around on my guitar.  
I listened to Metallica and tried to strum along on my vintage Fender that I mowed lawns for three years to buy. I was pretty shit because I didn't have money for lessons, but I was better than your average joe.

My phone rang and I groaned and turned down my music. I answered it to find a very distressed Louis on the other end of the line. He tol me that Eleanor had sprained her ankle doing some stupid thing I didn't care about and they weren't going to be able to go to prom.

"I was only going because you made me agree to," I complained. "I've already bought my ticket, rented a tux, all for your dumb ass who isn't even going to show up. And you know I have to go because I'm out a fuck ton of money and I don't want it to be a waste."

"I'm really sorry, mate. I owe you one, I promise," he apologised.

"You owe me more than fucking one, Tomlinson." I hung up and flung my phone onto my bed.

Shitty day just got shittier. It was bad enough I was going to have to be a third wheel with Louis and Eleanor, but now I was just going to be a lone wheel. I was a unicycle. No one wants to ride a unicycle. Especially not gorgeous girls name Noel Willner.

**********

If I could describe the music at prom in three words, they would be "so fucking bad." I know not everyone is into metal and shit, but rap and r&b didn't have to be the only things they played.  
I grabbed a glass of punch and sat off to the side, watching everyone dance. It's funny how everyone thinks they can dance while they're in the act, but looking from the outside, you're really just an awkward limp noodle, wiggling your body to a Lady Gaga song.  
I felt like shit and I was alone. This was not worth $60.

Everyone was so dressed up and there I was, in a tshirt and jeans like always. I returned the tux earlier that day and managed to get most of my money back, which I used to buy weed on my way to the school.  
The one and only reason I was looking forward to being there was to see Noel. Maybe I'd even pluck up the courage to talk to her. Maybe I'd seduce her with my good looks and we'd make out in the janitor's closet the rest of the night. Maybe pigs would fly.

I watched her dance with Tyler for a few songs until he apparently got bored of her and went to hang out with his friends. It looked like Zayn didn't have a date. Serves you right, asshole.  
So Noel stood by the punch bowl and talked with her friends until they were invited to dance with their dates. She was all alone, like me. You could tell she wasn't used to it. She fidgeted with her hands and looked around the room awkwardly. That was my chance to go over there, but I stayed glued to my seat, watching the different coloured lights dance off her platinum hair.

I found myself staring, but I didn't care. Until something made her look my way. I don't know what it was, but she just looked right at me, her green orbs bore into mine and I couldn't look away. The corners of her mouth turned up a bit and it felt like someone set me on fire. Jesus Christ, how can one girl be so sexy and beautiful at the same time? I wanted to push her up against a wall and fuck her until she begged me not to, but at the same time I wanted to go over to her, rest my hand on her cheek and kiss her soft pink lips. Smell the sweet scent of her skin. Entangle my fingers with hers.

 _Oh fuck. She's walking over to me. What the fuck do I do? Why is she coming over here?_  
I looked behind me, finding nothing but a few empty seats and a trashcan. I turned back to her and she was even closer. My body became tense and my hands and lips started to shake from the intense onslaught of nerves she was giving me.  
A few more steps and she was sitting right next to me, the silk of her floor-length gown clung to her hazelnut skin. She was wearing a different perfume than the day before. It smelled like raspberries and something else I couldn't place.  
 _Say something, you fucking idiot._

"Hi," she said, beating me to the punch. Her voice was heavenly.

"H-hi," I stuttered.

"Harry, right?" she asked, an adorable crinkle forming between her brows. I nodded, unable to speak because of the giant lump rising up my throat. How did she know who I was?

"I'm Noel," she sang.  
 _I know that. I dream about you._  
"Weird question for you," she said.

"Shoot," I told her. She smiled, the radiance of her smile almost blinding me.

"You like Iron Maiden, right? After gym yesterday, I saw you wearing one of their shirts."

 _I eat, breathe, and fucking sleep Iron Maiden._ "Ha, yeah," I replied casually. "They're pretty cool."

She reached around her and picked up her tiny black purse, digging through it for something. I occupied my shaking hands by picking at the threads surrounding a hole in my jeans.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, pulling out two white slips of firm paper. I looked up at her, a cute curl dangled in the middle of her forehead. "I've got two tickets to their concert this Friday, and my boyfriend won't go with me. He has the worst fucking taste in music." She rolled her sparkling eyes, and then apologised for swearing.

"Wow, what a loser," I commented, secretly loving the fact that I just insulted Tyler to his girlfriend's face. "I wanted to go to that concert, but I didn't have anyone to go with either." I nervously bent my head down to shake my curls out and sweep them across my forehead.

"Come with me?" she asked, a hint of a blush in her cheeks. She smiled hopefully, handing one of the tickets to me. "Their new shit is kinda overrated but I'm told their playing mostly classics."

I took it from her grasp, scanning over the details. FRONT ROW? I pretended to not be phased and handed it back to her, coolly.

"Maybe," I shrugged.

Disappointment fell over her features. "Please don't say maybe," she pleaded, resting a hand on my arm. A bolt of electricity flowed through me as her tiny fingers tightened around my wrist. "I really need someone to go with. Plus to be honest...," she looked down at her lap, removing her hand from me. "I've been wishing I had a reason to talk to you. I see you in English, gym, and Pre-calc all the time but I haven't had the courage to say anything. When you said hi to me yesterday I got nervous so I just walked away. Lame, huh?"

I could almost hear my jaw hit the floor. This goldilocked goddess sitting before me in the most amazing red dress just asked me to a metal band concert and then told me she was nervous to talk to me. Me. The loser pothead with no friends who doesn't shower daily and is going nowhere in life. 

"I like your tats," she complimented staring at the scattered collage of black and white tattoos on my left bicep.

I laughed, somewhat embarrassed of the giant word "Hi" I got tattooed in Lou's handwriting one drunken night. "Thanks. They're kind of dumb though, really." I unrolled my sleeve so that it covered most of them.

"I'm jealous. I've only got one." She moved the thin strap on her shoulder to the side and pulled down the top of her dress in the back down a bit, revealing a portrait about the size of my hand. It was of Death holding his scythe up in the middle of a group of a tress in a forest. A banner around it read the famous Guns N' Roses song title "Welcome to the Jungle." Fuck, I was in love. The same seemingly cliche popular blonde cheerleader was like me. If only her boyfriend knew she was a teenage dirtbag, too.  
I silently wondered what else she was hiding underneath her clothes. I did that everyday, but now I was even more curious.

"Pinch me," I breathed.

"Sorry?" she said, slipping the strap back over her shoulder.

I shook my head and smiled. "Nothing."

I looked her up and down, biting my lip. How could she think any guy would say no to anything she asked of them? She could ask me to crawl across miles of broken glass on my hands and knees and I would do it for her.  
My eyes made their way up her body, lingering a little too long on the silk V of her collar that hung down between her breasts, showing off the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. 

"So..." she encouraged me to give her an answer."Will you go?" 

I looked up at her impossibly beautiful face, smiling at me. My heart skipped a beat and I figured I had strung her along long enough.

"I'd love to."


End file.
